The Birth of Elementals
by Kagome2654
Summary: Four humans are bestowed with the powers of the elements. Now, can these talented elementals and the Teen Titans come together and triumph in the battle of Good vs. Evil? Or will the darkness within create unstoppable new enemies? Only time will tell.
1. Chapter One: Fire

A/N: Howdy y'all! Nah, I don't really talk like that. Anywho, welcome to the very first chapter of The Birth of Elementals! Seriously, I am not feeling that creative with titles. But hey, it's a title that says it all, isn't it?

Anyway, I'm not really sure at this point exactly what's going to happen. I just really wanted to write an element-based fantasy novel, and Teen Titans seemed like a good place to shove my characters. BTW, all of this is taking place... oh, let's shove them all into cities neighbouring Jump City, so they'll at least have heard of the Teen Titans. I might change my mind later, but let's just say that's that for the sake of publishing TODAY!

Anyways (you'll learn I say that A LOT), I think that's about enough of my ramblings. ON WITH THE SHOW!

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**Fire**

"Blake Childs, please report to the principal's office for a message," said the intercom at Everglade Elementary School.

Blake Childs was a ten-year-old kid with wild rust-brown hair and hazel eyes. He was sort of shrimp-y for his age, but he was slim and athletic. What he lacked in size he made up for with his fiery spirit. He was a good kid with a small chip on his shoulder, but that chip gave him the advantage when he concentrated his energy on the game of soccer. He was pretty popular with the students in his grade, but he never went out to social gatherings, and preferred to be alone, something that his teachers had a hard time understanding.

Blake sighed and walked toward the office. He knew exactly what the message was that was left for him; his parents would not be able to pick him up from school that day. It was a message that he was all too familiar with. His parents were wealthy workaholics. They had gained their fortunes very recently, and at the start, he thought he was the luckiest boy alive. He could have anything he ever wanted with the money that they were making. But, as he quickly came to realize, the money was more curse than blessing. Gradually, his parents declined in the amount of time they spent with him, working later days at their jobs, until there came a point when the only time he saw them was weekends and occasionally in the evenings of slow months. However, they were too exhausted to pay much attention to him.

They hired a permanent live-in baby sitter, a teenage girl named Jenny. Jenny was blond, slender, and very pleasant. She took pity on Blake and tried to be nice to him. She would let him watch television for hours, helped him with his homework, read him stories before bed, the works. She became like an older sister to him. But it wasn't enough to replace the emptiness caused by the lack of attention from his parents. Jenny was eighteen-years-old, but her parents did not have the money to pay to get her a license, so she could not pick him up from school. Blake would have to walk home on days that his parents couldn't pick him up and no one else was available to do so.

Even though he knew what the message was, Blake still went to the office to be polite to the secretaries. They were just doing their job. They couldn't possibly know the whole situation, although with the amount of times the same message was left for him, he figured they would have a pretty good idea. What Blake didn't know was that this particular day would be the start of a completely different life than the one he was accustomed to.

He made his way through the city streets that lead to his house without really watching where he was going. He'd walked the path so many times that it was almost like instinct to him, and so his pace was slow and thoughtful. The streets were busy with people who all had places to be and things to do. All of them as busy and hard working as his parents, with no time to even stop and notice he was there. He loved his parents for working so hard. He knew that they just wanted to give him everything he could ever need and then some, but they didn't understand that what he needed most was their love. As he pondered over these things, he felt himself being pushed aside into an alley between a restaurant and a clothing store.

When he got over the sudden shock of the movement, he looked up to find that there was a man approaching him, his eyes fixed on Blake. Blake's heart started to pound. What could this person want with him? He knew the answer to that question, but he repressed the thought and started to back away from the man. He felt the cool of the brick wall behind him touch his back and continued to stare at the man heading toward him. Then, in an attempt at freedom, he raced to the left of him further into the alley, hoping to find the way out. He shut his eyes against the fear and bumped into something, landing on his butt. He looked up to find another man staring down at him. At first he though he was saved, but he noticed this man had a crooked smile, and when he looked back, he saw the other one coming in their direction.

He knew he was trapped. He started to quake with fear. He was trembling fiercely. He'd never been this scared in his life. He was so scared that he began to feel hot. As the men were closing in on him, Blake's chest was boiling. He was sweating and shaking with fear and heat. He could hardly contain himself. It was as if there was a fire inside his heart, and he started clutching at it in pain. He tried to stand, but he fell to his knees panting, one hand holding him up, and the other clutching at his T-shirt. The men had stopped moving then, and he heard one of them gasp in fear. He tried to look around, but he couldn't see anything that could be causing their surprise. A sudden surge of pain caused his head to spin, and his vision started to blur. Blake could not understand what was going on, but his eyes glowed the colour of embers, and with a cry of pain, a shield of flames burst out around him and engulfed the alley, and he fell unconscious.

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Blake awoke to the sound of water running. He was exhausted from the events that just unfolded, but he forced his eyes open. He was laying flat on his stomach, but he could see that he was still in the same alley, though its walls were now charred by fire and a few parts were still burning. He turned his head to his right to see that firemen were putting out the blaze, and police were asking a crowd that had gathered if there had been any witnesses to what had happened. There was a lot of talk and upset from what he could hear. He caught bits of sentences, like the words "explosion", "flames", and "screaming men", but it hurt his head to concentrate on anything.

"Hey, look!" one of the firemen shouted, "The kid's still alive!"

"Yeah, you're right!" a police officer stated in wonder, and he rushed over to Blake. "From the charring it seems that the flames originated from where he is, so I was sure he was a goner, but… how the heck did he survive the blast?"

"More importantly, what caused the fire? This is unlike anything I've ever seen, and I've been in this business for twenty-five years!"

"I'll say…" the policeman bent down beside Blake, who was drifting in and out of consciousness. "Hey, kid, can you tell me your name?" Blake struggled to talk, but he could barely get a sound out. "It's alright," the police officer said, seeing the trouble he had speaking, "Don't force yourself. We'll just take you down to the station and you can rest up there." He put a hand on Blake's back. "JEEZ LOUISE! Has anyone else felt this kid!? He must be like, a hundred degrees or something!"

The fireman walked over and touched Blake. "Wow, you're right! Hey, don't worry, that's what these suits are made to handle. We'll wrap him in the fire blanket. Then just… get him some ice, or something. Boy, in all my years… hey, boys! Get the fire blanket over here!" The fireman ran toward his crew. The last thing Blake saw before blacking out again was the policeman peering at him in wonder.

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"Oh good, you're awake."

Blake was laying on a couch in a policeman's office. It was the officer from earlier. He sat up quickly in a panic. What time was it? Had anyone told Jenny where he was? Did anyone tell his parents?

"Whoa there, fella. Easy does it." The officer got up and went over to the water cooler. He poured a cup full and handed it to Blake. "There. You must be thirsty." He watched Blake down the water without a second thought. "My name is Officer Leroy. Can I ask what your name is?"

"Blake." The sound of his own voice started Blake slightly and he winced. How long had he been out for?"

"Nice to meet you Blake." He took the cup and filled it with more water, then gave it back to Blake and grabbed a chair to sit down in. "That was some accident in the alley. When we found you, you were as hot as an oven. The firemen had to wrap you in a fire blanket. You cooled down though, so I told them to just leave you here with me." Blake took silent sips of his water. "It's amazing that you survived this afternoon. Beyond amazing, actually. It's a downright miracle, I tell you what." Officer Leroy continued to stare at Blake, who didn't say a word. "Do you know what could have caused that fire, son?"

Blake seemed suddenly obsessed with his own appearance in the reflection his water created. "No," he replied quietly. Then, like a burst of lightning, his expression changed to worry. "What happened to those men?" He asked, wide eyed.

Officer Leroy watched him intently, then finally said, "They were engulfed by the flames. Nothing left of them but charred remains." Blake looked back down at his water. _'I killed them… What's happening to me?'_ "It's okay, though," Leroy cut in, "They were wanted in a series of kidnappings. Looks like we got our men." He watched Blake some more, then sighed and said, "Son, if you remember anything about what happened, I'd appreciate all the help I can get with this case." After much more silence on Blake's part, the officer gave up his interrogation. "So," he said more cheerfully and smiled, "What are your parents' names?"

**--------------------------------**

"Oh, Blake! Thank goodness!" Jenny rushed up to him and picked him up in an embrace. "I wouldn't have forgiven myself if something had happened to you. Thank you for returning him, officers."

"No problem, ma'am," The two officers who drove Blake home said, and one of them smiled, obviously pleased with the appearance of the girl in front of him. "If you be needin' anythin' more, just give us a call."

Jenny closed the door behind the officers, then turned to Blake. "What happened today, Blake?"

Jenny was the one person in the whole world that Blake knew he could trust with anything, even the truth about the events that unfolded that day. Whether or not she would believe him was a different story.

"Look, I'm not really sure myself what happened. And I don't know if you'll believe me, but…" he took one look at her eager face, then shut his eyes and sighed. "As far as I can remember, those two guys were after me, and I started to get really scared, and…"

"And…?" She coaxed him gently, trying to reassure him.

"And, I started to get really hot, and this… fire shot out from my body, like a shield." He turned to look at her face, and saw the confusion and worry painted on it. "Look," he said, slightly irritated for having said anything, "I don't expect you to believe me, but--"

"I believe you, Blake."

"You do?" He blinked back his surprise.

"Well… yeah. I mean, what else could it be? It is a little… well, okay, a LOT odd. But…" She looked him in the eyes. "That would explain where the fire came from, and why you weren't harmed or killed. Now, about your parents…" He knew this was coming. As his care taker, it was Jenny's responsibility to report any and all things that happened to his parents. He had wanted to avoid telling them anything to do with it, at least until he could figure out what was going on. Jenny knelt down in front of him and said, "I won't tell them if you don't," and winked. Blake's eyes lit up.

"Thanks, Jen. You're awesome."

"No problem. Just, from now on, let me help you. I don't want you going anywhere by yourself. If your parents or anyone else can't pick you up from school, I will walk there myself and come and get you. And always phone and tell me if you're going to go anywhere and who you're going to be with. And one more thing--"

"Aw, c'mon, Jenny!"

"--Let me help you control your powers."

"Really? You want to help? That'd be great!" He reached around her neck with his arms and hugged her.

"No problem," she said. "I think it's awesome. Now get some rest. It's been a rough day. You can take the day off of school tomorrow, and we'll go do whatever you want to do. And we won't tell your parents about that, either." She chuckled menacingly.

"Really!? Sweet!"

"Yeah. I'll make sure I pick up your homework so they don't get suspicious."

"Not that they check up on my homework anyway… or me, either."

Jenny looked sadly at him. "Blake, I know that one day your parents will realize all of the precious moments with you that they're missing. But until then, if you'll let me, I can be all of the family you need. I'll help you through all of this. You just need to let me be all that I can be for you." Blake went silent once more and stared at the floor. "You don't have to answer that with words. C'mon, I'll read you your favourite story so you can fall asleep."

So they went to his room, and she tucked him in and gave him a glass of water beside his bed, and read to him until he fell asleep. And, as she turned off the light, Jenny looked at Blake sleeping on his bed with a sort of sad, sweet smile. She was worried for all of the trials that would befall him in the near future, things she knew that she could not understand or help him with, things that had to do with the strange powers he'd gained that day. But she was proud of all that he had become, and would help him as much as she could along the way. Taking one final look at the new Blake, she closed the door.

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A/N: Well? What do you guys think of the first birth of an elemental? Pretty sweet, eh? EHHH? Sorry, I'm just a little excited. Especially because I procrastinated on my homework to write this! Who knows, maybe it'll turn into something really great! Although I'm not too good at writing fantasy, so maybe I should get help on stuff like fight scenes and whatnot... ah well, anyways, it's 10:36, so off to bed!

Sheesh, I'm such a grandma. Can't help it! School definitely takes its toll. Oh, and please review! You don't HAVE to rate. I think I'll get a general idea of what everybody thinks of this story based on the reviews I get. You know, things you like, things you'd change, ideas for where the story could go, etc. I would really appreciate your lovely feedback. It helps me write! (Seriously, no feedback, you won't be seeing me for **_years_**. Just take a look at Failed and New Death. Talk about your dried up stories.) So yeah, I think that's about it. Thanks for reading, and keep an eye out for Chapter the Second! (**Spoiler!**: It's about Water.)

Jaa ne.


	2. Chapter Two: Water

A/N: Wow, chapter two, and it's only been one day! Talk about progress! Ehhhhh? Okay, I promise I'll stop doing that... for now.

Anyway, I only got one review, but that's good enough for me!

**a.t**, thank you so much for saying you like my story. It really helps.

Well, this chapter is juuuuuust over half of the length of the other one. Not as much dialogue because this character doesn't talk much... but I'll stop spoiling it for you. Enjoy!

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**Water**

Christine's ebony hair licked at the sky in the summer breeze. She brought a hand up to tame it behind her ear as she thumbed through a book, sapphire eyes fixed on its pages, mind lost in silent reveries. Her complexion almost matched the ivory fountain she sat upon in the centre of town, with its chiselled yet soft mounds of clay perfectly formed to its master's will. She had the appearance of a goddess in the body of a small twelve-year-old girl.

Reluctantly she closed her book, sensing the nature of the hour. She knew that she had to be home at a set time. Her foster parents were very strict. They planned her every movement for her, and consequences for disobedience were always dire. Over the years she learned to numb herself from the abuse she received, both verbal and physical. There were days when the pain inflicted was almost too much to bear emotionally. Those days she would lock herself in her room for some time, without food or drink, and play and replay the song in her music box, given to her by her late grandmother, and long to be free. She knew that her parents were looking for her to show weakness, so she would hide how she felt until they were tired of looking, and only cry when it could be drown out by the sound of the music.

This particular day she had skipped the latter half of school, a decision she knew would cost her if ever she was found out, but a decision she had made time and again. Whenever she did this, she would erase the message left by her school about her absence before her parents got home from work. During her lunch hour one day, she had taken her things and travelled into the forest behind the building as she so often did and explored. She walked the beaten path through, but found a path where feet had not travelled before that lead up a small mountain. She decided to investigate, and after half an hour of walking was met with a beautiful scene.

There, in the midst of a clearing, was a small waterfall that poured into a stream, which twisted and wound about deeper into the forest. The water at the bottom of the fall bubbled and foamed. She could smell fresh wildflowers, sweet mountain air, and clear waters in the breeze. A fawn stood drinking at the foot of the falls. It was like a scene out of a fairy tale, and she took it all in for as long as she possibly could before descending back down to the city. She would keep this place as her own, would never share it with anyone except the wildlife.

Christine would do odd jobs for people. She would deliver bread to people's houses for the baker, would help the post man deliver messages on early mornings when she could successfully sneak unnoticed out of the house, and would donate books she'd read already to the library. She managed to gain enough money to purchase a ham and cheese sandwich on freshly baked rye from the bakery with a bottle of chocolate milk, rather than the pieces of toast and small milk that her foster parents would pack her for lunch. She felt she would have been better off at an orphanage than under their care, but it was not her choice to make. They kept up appearances when a social insurance agent would come by to make sure that the living environment was suitable for Christine. But, once they were gone, the abusive relationship resumed. She did not know how much longer it would be before her body crumpled under the stress and she gave up and passed on, but she knew it was either that, or survive to see the day she would no longer need the care of foster parents.

She packed the sandwich and the milk in her school bag and, when the lunch bell rang, she stealthily made her way out without being caught, hopped the fence, and headed off into the forest to her spot, where she would have a picnic and watch the birds flutter about playfully, the foxes scurry cleverly, and the fawns walk gracefully about. When she was finished, she went down to the fountain in the centre of the town and began to read.

Christine was not a very conversational sort of girl, but that would be expected if one only knew what went on behind the closed doors of the Evans' house. She kept mostly to herself, did all of her work out of worry for the consequences, and never spoke about her home life. She made the mistake of telling the principal about how she had received a bruise on her face when asked, and the principal took the matter directly to the parents. Christine's foster father, Darrel, explained that he had simply lost himself for but a moment, and that this was not their usual way of dealing with her. He had such a charismatic charm about him that it seemed all, including the principal, were persuaded to believe him no matter what he said. The bruise on Christine's face cleared up, but she got several more on other areas of her body that could not be seen so keenly by the public eye for having mentioned the matter at all, and it was never brought up again.

She arrived home at the same time as she usually did. When she turned around from having closed the door, the sight of Darrel made her jump with a start, and fear seized a tight hold of her features as she noticed his frown. She knew that something was about to happen.

"How was your day at school?" He asked her in a less-than-amused tone of voice.

"Fine," she said timidly. In a flash of lightning she was on the ground, clutching her cheek. He had backhanded her with such a force that it sent her tumbling to the floor, her head hitting the door. She took her hand from her face and, wide eyed, she noticed that there was a thin line of blood on it. She stared at him in horror. Normally she could contain her expressions, but the sight of him being home early was still freshly surprising.

"Do not lie to me," he said in the same calm tone he had before. Her head began to swim from the pain as if she'd been drugged. He picked her up by the hair now, and held her eye level with him. "Where were you!?" He was shouting now, and she winced as he spit the words on her face. She looked at him with drunken eyes, and saw something horrifyingly animal flicker in his eyes, and he rammed her head into the wall. "Where!" _Slam!_ "Were!" _Slam!_ "YOU!" _Slam!_ He was no longer looking for an answer to his question, and he tossed her aside angrily, her body sliding against the hardwood flooring. Her hair was now covering her face as she tried to get up. He spoke again. "I give you food, I give you clothing, shelter, an education, and THIS--" he paused, his rage seemed to choke the words from his throat, "This is how you repay me? You'd be dead without me, and don't forget it. You scummy little insect." The hatefulness of his words stabbed her to the core, and she could feel her heart beginning to swell up with a strange new feeling. As he walked toward her, the feeling got more and more intense. It was like a mixture of bravery, anger, darkness, and something else. Something instinct. The words came out of her before she realized what was going on.

"Stay back." She said, but it was not fear that coloured her tone. It was warning, something like defiance.

"Developed a spine, have we?" He chuckled menacingly. "Well, that's fine then. It's no fun without a struggle." He inched closer to her, and something in the ceiling began to creak. Now her heart was racing wildly, her breathing shallow and quickened.

"I am warning you. Stay away from me." She said, and her irises began to glow a deep cerulean. She did not know who's voice she was hearing. It was not her own, though it without a doubt came from her throat. Darrel just laughed to himself, and the creaking got louder.

He picked her up once more by the hair and held her face close to his, though her head was down. "You're the dirt of the earth," he told her. She snapped her head up and met his eyes, and his face shifted from arrogant to fearful as he looked into her eyes. "What in the--"

The house gave out one long moan as the pipes burst open and water crashed through the ceiling, destroying everything in its wake. It gushed down the stairs and pounded him into the ground. The whole house became a sea of it, and Darrel lay on the floor like a rock, while Christine floated, still staring at him with her glowing eyes. She watched him struggle to get up, but an invisible force kept him from moving, and he writhed and whipped around, gasping for air but filling his lungs with only water. The red veins in his eyes seemed to become more prominent as the flood choked him to death, and he fell unconscious. All the while, Christine just watched him suffer, stone faced and unfazed. Finally, when she was sure that he was dead, the water burst the front double doors open and flooded the streets, nearby citizens gasping in shock and gathering to see what had happened.

Christine slowly floated down with the water. Her eyes stopped glowing, and she stared with contempt at the body on the floor. She had taken her first life. It was not an altogether pleasant feeling, but he had been her oppressor. And, although she did not feel a sense of release, she knew that now she was free.

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A/N: So, what did you think? Good? Yes? No? I hope so. Water is my favourite element. Can you tell? hahaha

Well, I put off more homework to write this. I'm just not feeling my school work at the moment, which is really too bad considering that I have like... six overdue assignments? Yeah, reeeeaaally need to get my butt in gear, big time.

Well, enough about my life. Anyways, I can't promise that updates will always be this quick (they usually really aren't in the least. Maybe I'm just really into this elemental fantasy thing? Go figure...), but I will try to have chapter three up within the year! heh heh heh... (**_Spoiler!_**: This time's wind.)

Gotta go.


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